Butlers-R-Us

I narrowed my eyes and stared at the peep.  Failing to get her attention, I narrowed my eyes and GLARED at the peep.  Still failing to get her attention, I sat back on my haunches, threw back my head, and howled like an army of kilt-clad Scots on the bagpipes, no less.

Okay, so actually, I pretended to hork up a hairball into her shoe, which although very effective, sounded too - Shall I say, pedestrian? - to admit.

MOUSES!

"Peepers," I said, "I am very displeased with your behaviour as of late."  I looked down my nose at the peep.

Which is not the easiest things to do when you're a cat who stands 'bout one foot tall, and the person you're trying to belittle is lordin' their height over you like the Earl of Grantham, himself.

MOUSES!

That's when I realised, if I were to jump up onto a chair or a table or somethin', lookin' down my nose at the peep would be a heck of a lot easier to do.

So I did.

MOUSES!

"Peepers," I reiterated, "I am very displeased with your behaviour as of late."  I pursed my lips, raised my chin, and made my whiskers go all a-quiver.  "Yesterday, particularly so."

The peep let out a loud sigh.  "What now?" she asked.

"Peepers, need I remind you as to what you did yesterday afternoon?  Or rather...

Duh duh duh DUH....

"What you did not do?  Need I?"

The peep looked perplexed.

I actually saw that one comin', for lookin' perplexed is one of her go-to looks these days.

"Peepers, Rushy and I were left all alone, ALL AFTERNOON, while you and Peep #2 went off gallivanting to see some stupid movie."  I rose to my full height and stared at her right in the eyes.  Two laser beams seared through the air and headed straight for her.

"So?"

"SO?  SO?  Is that all you have to say for yourself?  SO?  What kinda answer is that?"

I raised a paw to stop her from speakin'.

"Is that any way to speak to a cat?"

She shrugged.  "Seville, you don't like the car, so I really doubt you wanted to drive to the theatre with us.  Besides, the movie theatre has a rule:  NO CATS ALLOWED.

"Of all the moused-up, stupid, nonsensical rules.  What if a cat WANTS to catch a Saturday matinee?"

Again the peep shrugged, before starting to turn away.

So I grabbed onto her shirt with a claw.

"Not so fast there, Peepers.  I shall ignore your comment 'bout my not being allowed in the theatre for now; partly 'cause I'm not quite sure I believe you, but mostly 'cause you might be right 'bout my not actually wanting to go in the car to the theatre in the first place.  But that still doesn't excuse your behaviour as of late.  In particular, your behaviour yesterday afternoon.

Resigned to the fact she wasn't gettin' to go anywhere, anytime soon - you know, on account of my claw still bein' attached to her shirt sleeve - the peep sat down on the couch next to me.

"The thing is, Peepers, yesterday afternoon, you and Peep #2 left me all alone, ALL AFTERNOON, with that one," and I motioned over to Rushton with my tail.

"What did I do?" asked Rushy from the other side of the room.

Ignoring my brother, I continued.  "Left all alone, ALL AFTERNOON, with a long-haired freak of a brother.  That is what you did to me, Peepers, yesterday afternoon."

I could tell Rushy was about to object 'bout my comment 'bout his fur bein' long, so I gave him a look that said, Be quiet.  MOUSES!

There was no one here to replenish my bowl of kibble, refresh my water bowl, or open countless tins while I decided which flavour would tickle my fancy at any particular moment.  No one to toss me a nip mouse if a nip mouse is what I desired.  No one to comment upon my cuteness while I slept, ate, and went about my general business.  No one to let me out into the garden if the garden is where I wanted to go.  No one to stand at the door while I decided if goin' outside was somethin' I actually wanted to do in the first place.  No one to..."

"What are saying, Seville?" the peep interrupted.  And very rudely, I might add, too.  "Are you saying you wanted me to hire a pet sitter for one measly afternoon?"

"Pet sitters are glorified babysitters, Peepers.  GLORIFIED BABYSITTERS, for sure.  I was actually thinkin'..."  And I paused to chew between my toes on my left front paw.  "I was actually thinkin' more along the lines of a valet, cook, maid, and perhaps a footman to man - so to speak - the opening of doors."  No.. I do believe a butler would be better for that.

That's when the peep went to her other go-to look: CONFUSED.

MOUSES!

"I'm tellin' ya, Peepers, if you're gonna swan off for a whole afternoon to go see some movie again, you had better make sure you have replacement staffing in place.  There's to be no more of this leavin'-us-cats-alone-and-expectin'-us-to-make-do business.  There's to be no more of this shoddy attitude at all!  You seem to forget..."

The peep sat back, managing to fold her arms across her chest, even though I still had a hold of one sleeve.

"You seem to forget that I, Seville the Cat, am the boss around here.  MOUSES!"

"Are you done?"

"For now," and I extricated my claw from her shirt.  "But remember, Peepers, next time you go off gallivanting for a day, be sure to first hire appropriate staff."

I watched as the peep exited the room.  Had I gotten my point across?  Would her future behaviour improve?  Would she remember to do as I said?  Hmmm...  I mulled it over in my head for a bit, and finally decided the peep would likely need help.  First thing in the mornin', I would set up interviews with Butlers-R-Us, assuming such a business exists.

MOUSES!

nope, that won't do either

Nope.  Nope.  Nope. Nadda.  What the mouses?  No way.  Nope, that won't do either.

For mousin' out loud.  I've gone through all my notes and still, I can't find a single thing to...

Wait a minute.  Hmmm... NOPE.  MOUSES!

You'd think that with my living in a house like this and with peeps like these, there would always be something crazy to write about twice a week, every week, but it turns out that this week, my peeps have let me down, for sure.  So it is with great sadness that I must relate, my peeps have done nothing crazy enough in the last seven days to warrant an entire blog post about nothing but their craziness.  Again I must say, MOUSES!

Oh sure, there was that little incident with the uhh...  you know.  And then there was the thing with that ol'...  Yeah, you know.  And then there was...  Hmmm....

But an entire post about any of one of these things?  It's just not gonna happen.  My friends, it is Sunday, and I have nothing to write about at all.  Nothing.  Nadda. Naddadinkingninkingnincompoopything!  MOUSES!

What to do...  What to do...

Well I could write about my brothers.  Nah, did that last couple of posts.

Or I could write about my sisters.  Hmmm...  Nah, they've done nothing interesting this week, either.

I know!  I could write about the weather!  Yeah, I could write about the weather.  What a Canadian thing to do.  Canadian peeps and Canadian kitties, alike, are always writing about the weather and stuff.  Well technically it's more of a weather complaining than writing kind of thing.  And I suppose I really shouldn't be saying about but rather aboot but...

Nah, weather complaining up here in the Great White North has been done so many times it has become old hat which, my friends, brings me to my long-held theory about weather forecasting and stuff.  I have long believed that weatherpeeps write up a bunch of weather forecasts and put 'em all in a big ol' hat. Thus, the old hat.  Then, when they need to give a forecast on the radio or the television or the Internet, all they need do is pull out one of those forecasts from said old hat.

But I said I wasn't gonna blog about the weather today.  Not gonna blog aboot it, either.  MOUSES!

I could always blog about the new word I just invented.  You know the one.  The one I used up above.  Naddadinkingninkingnincompoopything.  Say that three times quickly.  MOUSES!

Come on...  COME ON...  I dare ya!  Bet you can't. MOUSES!

Or I could mention how Ol' Peepers here has been elfing.  Can you believe it?  Elfing in February.   Never heard anything so crazy in my whole, entire life.  Have you?

That's right, my friends, Peep #1 has been knitting up biff bags for...  wait for it...  NEXT Christmas. All I can say is, crazy is as crazy does and judging by the crazy my peep has been doing, crazy is putting it mildly.

She says she needs something to do with her hands while watching Downton Abbey on Sunday nights.  I say, she could be giving me tummy rubs with those hands instead of enticing me with yarn you just know I'm gonna wanna catch.  MOUSES!

But that's not all.  Instead of making nice little square biff bags like the biff bags we've all come to know and love, the peep has making heart-shaped ones.  Never seen anything like it.

I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking that heart-shaped biff bags might be kinda pretty and stuff but you'd be wrong...

Okay, you'd actually be right about that.  They are pretty cute.  Thing is though, a bag filled with nip is a bag filled with nip and let me tell you something, my fur-fam and I can demolish a nip-filled bag in a matter of hours whether it be rectangular, square, round or heart-shaped so it's always best if the peep makes 'em in the easiest possible way to make 'em so that she doesn't see 'em all ripped up and ruined and stuff and think to herself, "Seville just got that biff bag and it's already all torn apart."

Now don't get me wrong.  The peep is gonna be thinking along those lines, for sure, but there's no need for her to be putting in the extra work of making special shapes when we're just gonna rip 'em all apart, lickety-split.

And speaking of lickety-split, we'll be licking our paws and our lips after demolishing those biff bags, for sure.  MOUSES!

Oh my, you should SEE the biff bag from Christmas that the peep found between the cushions in the family room, this morning.  Yarn sticking out all over the place, big hole in one side and not a trace of the nip that once filled it to be found.

Yup, we're thinking of holding funeral services for said biff bag this spring, once winter is over and the ground has thawed and...

And that, my friends, has brought us right back to my blogging about the weather which I did say I wasn't gonna do, didn't I.  Not a question, of course. Just a statement of fact.  A statement that I didn't want to blog about or aboot the ol' weather even though it is a very Canadian thing to do so...

So I think it might be time to finish up this here blog post.  Here's hoping the peeps do something super crazy between now and Wednesday so that I'll have a topic for Wednesday's post. I know they have it in 'em.  I just KNOW that they do.  My peeps are funny that way, you see.  Funny as in odd as in a crazy kind of way.  Crazy as crazy can be. MOUSES!

put 'em to better use

Christmas and New Year's are long gone, now.  Even Little Christmas has passed. The holidays are all over for another year and it's time to get back to business, for sure.

This is a new year and it's bringin' a lot of changes to my house.  There are so many things I need to do.

For starters, I need to get workin' on my campaign for the Senate.  I have some super great ideas to implement.  I have some of the best ideas the Senate has heard of or seen in a very long time. Now all I've gotta do is get myself appointed.  MOUSES!

And speakin' of the Senate and campaigns and whatnot, I should just clarify somethin'.  Here in Canada, Senators are not elected.  They're appointed by the Prime Minister.  Well technically, they're appointed by the Governor General after bein' recommended by the Prime Minister. Recommended, summoned, whatever...  So I don't need to win an election.  I just need to be recommended.

But I still need to mount a campaign of sorts.  Not a campaign for an election but rather, a campaign to help the Prime Minister see the wisdom of appointin' me, Nerissa the Cat, to the Canadian Senate.  MOUSES!

If you wanna help with this here campaign of mine, please feel free to contact the Prime Minister of Canada and let him know what you think.  Feel free to tweet him, give him a call or even send him a letter.

If you're tweetin', please remember to include the hashtag #Niss4Senate.   I appear to be the only one usin' this hashtag at the mo.  I'm pretty sure it will be more effective once it starts trendin' but I kinda think that in order for it to trend, there has to be more than just me usin' it.  You know?

And if you should choose to go the snail mail route, I just wanna say that this form of mail doesn't really travel at the speed of snails.  It's more like that of a turtle, I should think.  Turtles, tortoises, whatever...  Does anyone really know the difference?  Does anyone really care?  Probably the turtles and tortoises do but what about the rabbits and hares?

I'm bettin' that you're all wonderin' what ideas I intend to bring forth once appointed to the Senate.  I have a list of stuff.  A to-do list, of sorts.  Gonna reveal those things in future posts right here on Nerissa's Life.  As loyal readers of my blog, you'll be the very first to know.  Pretty exciting, for sure.

Are you wonderin' what other things I have in store for the new year?  Well...

Well I'm gonna start crackin' the whip with the peeps.  They've been slackin'.  Slackin' BIG time. Time for me to put a stop to their ridiculous behavior.

Now that the hustle and bustle of the holidays is over, the peeps need to start puttin' their paws to better use.  Better use than what they were doin' with their paws before the holidays, for sure.


There was a lot of baking going on at my house in the weeks prior to Christmas and do you know what? Not a single one of those recipes used nip as a main ingredient.  Not a single one.  MOUSES!

That kind of behaviour has gotta stop.  If Peep #1 wants to bake, at least half of the recipes she uses should include nip.  I'm thinkin' that's more than fair. I mean, we cats outnumber the peeps in this house so technically, more than half the recipes should include the nip but I'm tryin' to go easy on the peep... FOR NOW.  We can always renegotiate nip percentages, next year.

Secondly, there has been way too much knittin' goin' on.  That's gonna have to stop.

To be fair, much of the knittin' prior to the holidays was elfin' work being done for Santa and those knitted biff bags and mice were stuffed with nip so, of course, knittin' of that sort may continue as much as desired.  Any kind of knittin' that includes nip is a-okay in my books.

But scarves?  And sweaters?  I don't wear scarves nor do I wear sweaters so stuff like that is just a waste of good yarn.  Plus, Peep #1 has a tendency to knit scarves usin' lacy patterns.  Oh sure, they look pretty and whatnot but do you know that you get when you try to stuff a lacy scarf with nip?  You get an empty scarf and a whole bunch of nip, lyin' on the floor.  I can attest to that from my own personal experience.

And if you try to play with said lacy scarf, you get scolded.  I can attest to that, too.  Yup, I can attest to that, for sure.  MOUSES!

Now if the peep starts knittin' comfy blankies, we can talk.  Especially if those blankies are stuffed with the nip.

Of  course, my sister Mason made a New Year's Resolution to learn how to knit, this year.  Well technically, I made that resolution for her but it's still a resolution and it's still for the new year so it still counts.  Mason can knit all she likes.  I have faith that she will put her newly acquired knittin' skills to good use.  I have faith that whatever Mason knits will include the nip.  MOUSES!

The peep needs to start puttin' her paws to better use.  I'm thinkin'...  chin tickles, behind-the-ear scritches and tummy rubs.  And that's just for starters.

With the new year we have new episodes of Murdoch Mysteries.  And Downton Abbey is back on PBS.  Gotta love shows like those 'cause they provide quality cuddlin' time with the peeps.  Nothin' like spendin' a few hours with your peeps while they tickle your chin and rub your tummy.  That's gotta be one of the best ways to spend an evenin', for sure.

I suppose I shouldn't monopolise all the peep's time, though.  Peep #1 does need to get back to workin' on her own writing.  She'll never be as prolific a writer as I but still, she needs at least a few hours of computer time a week if she's ever gonna finish that book of hers.

And she needs to take the Christmas tree down, too.  Like I said, the holidays are over now for the year but the Christmas tree in the livin' room is still up.  We cats have been tryin' to help by knockin' down some of the breakable rollables every now and then. Every day we knock down a few more but the peep, bein' a peep, keeps putting 'em back up.  What a peep.

The Christmas tree went up late last year so I'm bettin' it will come down late, too.  I wonder if the peep will get it down by Valentine's Day.  Valentine's Day, I can handle but it had better be down by Easter.  Easter is just way too late.  MOUSES!